Since he's eighteen and I'm just nine years old,
My brother
says I'm just a little boy.
So, any time I don't do as I'm told,
Or if I whine or talk back or annoy,
Or anything that
Mom and Dad forbid,
And he finds out,- I know that I'll be
spanked
On the bare bottom like a little kid,
And if I might
object, well, I'm outranked!
Now Mom and Daddy both have
gone across
The ocean on a six-month trip to France;
My
brother just declared: since he's the boss,
I have to go around
without my pants!
Each afternoon, when I come home from
school,
I have to hang my pants up in my room.
Shirt,
socks, shoes, undies, no pants - that's the rule!
And if I ever
break it - certain doom!
Although my legs get cold
sometimes, I've found -
If it's just him and me - well, I don't
mind.
What drives me nuts is when his friends come 'round:
They pat my legs, keep feeling my behind!
When I'm in
trouble, brother calls:"Come here!
You can't behave like
that. Enough's enough!
At least I know you'll listen through
your rear.
So, to the couch now. Get your undies off!"
He bent me over, spanked my bottom red,
Holding me down half-nude
across his lap.
"Let that teach you a lesson now," he said.
(I'm glad at least he didn't use the strap!)
But this
is how, he says I have to stay
'Til bedtime, and it's strange,
but, truth to tell,
He likes for me to run around this way,-
And, even stranger yet, I do as well!